The Oncoming Storm
by the ticking clock
Summary: "You are afraid of death," Spock said, softly. The Doctor laughed, a bitter, hoarse laugh, without humor. "Isn't everyone?" Co-written with Golden Disasters. Slight AU.
1. Prologue

**Hi! **

**This story was co-written with my amazing friend, Golden Disasters. She wrote things from Kirk's point of view, and I wrote the Doctor's. It was written for a school project about paradoxes. Please leave your thoughts in a review :)  
**

Prologue:

It was oddly beautiful, the destruction of the Earth's solar system.

He watched it from a safe distance, hidden away inside the shuddering walls of his TARDIS, and wondered what he had done to deserve something like this this time.

Nine hundred years of saving, observing and helping these beautiful ape-like creatures, and in half a second of mindless heat and terror and destruction, they are blown from the universe like dead leaves in the wind.

Leaning back against the console of his TARDIS he ran a hand across his face, almost surprised when his fingers came away wet.

Those young, young humans who predicted their sun would expand but weren't prepared for the idea that some outside force could end their tiny little blue world. He stared at it, watching as planets crumbled in on themselves, exploding in rivers of fire across the darkness of the universe. There was no trace that just three hundred years ago(the last time he had dared to visit that bright little planet) any civilization had existed.

_"Someday it's all gone...even that sky." _He had said that to Rose in his previous face in a moment of bitter spite, but he had never thought that the end would come so soon.

Too soon.

What year _was _it?

Spinning around he half-ran, half spun to calendar and reached for his glasses. The sun was supposed to die(as predicted by the humans) at the year six billion. It was 2200.

_What? _

_ "_This isn't right," he hardly heard himself, only felt his lips form the words as time raced wildly through his mind. Future, past, present, possible future, the burning of the solar system...it wasn't fixed time, not yet.

Could he change it?

The TARDIS shuddered under his hands. He took that as an answer.

"Come on, then," he whispered to the emptiness of his TARDIS. "Let's go save those little humans again."

Without even waiting for him to punch in the coordinates, she threw herself forward into the vortex.

He clung to the handrails, and despite the solar system burning behind him, the wild pulse of time pulling at his mind, the wild shuddering of the TARDIS and the sparks flying from the console, he found himself laughing.

* * *

He had to admit, the landing wasn't the best.

Honestly he was surprised there was somewhere to land at all, with all the screeching and burning the TARDIS was doing.

Somewhere throughout the flight he had ended up on his back. Pulling himself up he gave the console a slap. "hey, hey, settle down, girl, settle down."

Sparks spat in his face.

"Let's go see where we are, shall we?" He indulged himself by holding out his arm to an imaginary companion and sauntering out the door.

Something hard, metal and somehow familiar to this face was pressed to his temple. "How did you manage to come aboard this ship?"

"Well," He said and lifted his chin to get a view of his attacker, expecting another human.

Pointy ears. Alien?

"_My _ship landed here."

Hands clamped down hard on his arms, forcing him to his knees. "This is a Federation ship. Are you a member of Starfleet?"

For the first time in at least seven hundred years, he was really, truly confused. "Starfleet?"

"Let him up, Spock," this next voice was surprisingly _human _after the cold tone of his alien companion.

"Oh good," He said. This man was young, but there was an old quality to his eyes. "Someone's in charge."

His comment was met with a level stare. "My name is Captain Kirk. How did you come on our ship?"

"I told your friend, here. I landed." He flashed them a brilliant smile. "And you can call me, The Doctor."


	2. Chapter 1

**This chapter will alternate between the Doctor and Kirk's perspective. **

The ship was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Now that his eyes had cleared from the excess moisture of the fires and explosions from the TARDIS, he could clearly see his surroundings.

It was some kind of console room, with computers and flashing lights. So many lights and buttons. The giddiness and the initial shock of the moment struck him as it had when he had first regenerated into this body. He wanted to run and examine every computer for data, run and press every flashing button.

Frightened human eyes stared at him from various chairs and positions, with expressions ranging from shock to tentative curiosity.

But he had come here for a different reason, hadn't he? _Come on, Doctor. Think. Focus. _

"So," He said, and lurched forward as if to stand, only to be forced to his knees again. "okay. I'll stay down then."

"Explain yourself." The man, Kirk, commanded.

"Well..." he let the sentence trail off without completing it. He couldn't tell them why he was here, couldn't tell them about their world dying and exploding like a popped balloon. That wasn't why he was here. "My ship-that police box over their-materialized onto yours...I was in a bit of a hurry and forgot to check for shields, so-"

He wasn't sure if anyone was understanding what he was saying, but the captain seemed to accept his answer. "Alright then, Doctor. We'll figure out a way to get you home in just-"

_Home. _

"Captain Kirk, sir!" The voice was high and panicked and both the Doctor and Kirk turned towards it. a young man was fiddling with the controls at one of the desks. He looked up as Kirk vaulted over the chair in the center to place a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Sulu, what is it?"

"Three Klingon ships. Incoming."

_Klingons? _

Running a hand across his face, Kirk sat down in the center chair and spoke into the intercoms. "All crew, report to battle stations immediately. This is no drill."

The hands on the Doctor's arms tightened as he was pulled to his feet. "Captain?" Now that they were close, the Doctor could distinctly tell the difference between his captor and the humans on board. This man's voice was slower, deeper. For some reason, the tenors of the voice echoed with untold wisdom. Without listening too closely the Doctor could detect the faintest sense of telepathic ability.

Alien.

He smiled. It seemed as if he wasn't the only lost creature among these humans. However, here they were working together. Perhaps the human population had evolved since he'd last been to Earth.

"Leave him, Spock," Kirk threw the words almost casually over his shoulder. "He's not going anywhere and we have a more serious problem to deal with."

Released, The Doctor slowly turned in a circle. "You humans..." he whispered the words almost to himself. "Look at you lot, running through the stars in this magnificent thing. _Brilliant._"

An alarm sounded throughout the room, and he could hear it echoing faintly throughout the rest of the ship as red lights began to spin above their heads.

The crew glanced up, but seemed undeterred by the commotion. "Captain," Sulu spoke the words calmly. "They're locking torpedoes."

"Raise shields."

_Good idea._

Behind him the TARDIS shuddered. She was uncomfortable with this new ship and this time period. The vibrations from her distress pounded like a migraine behind his eyes. "Settle down, you're fine." He shot the words in her direction. "You've been to the end of the universe and back, this is nothing different."

"Captain, they're firing!" The words had barely left Sulu's mouth when the alarms became high pitched wails as the ship lurched sideways, controls smoking, computers spitting sparks.

The Doctor flattened himself to the ground, covering his head. Just in case, he groped in his pocket for his screwdriver, finding comfort in the cold handle.

"Scotty, damage report?" Kirk was shouting over the commotion. Pulling himself from his chair he made his way over to the other alien-Spock- and bent close. "How are we doing?"

The other man, presumably Scotty, and Spock answered simultaneously. "They have advance weaponry, Captain. We can't-"

"Hold on!" The shout came from Sulu. "They're firing again!"

"Why aren't are our shields up?" Kirk growled, gripping the back of Spock's chair until his knuckles turned white.

"They are, sir, thats the thing! Somehow the ammunition is getting past them!"

Ducking his head, The Doctor reached out and grabbed onto one of the chair legs, securing himself in his position on the floor. The pounding in his head wasn't from the TARDIS, he realized, it was his own knowledge. It was time telling him that this was bad, very, very bad...that him coming here wasn't time being rewritten at all, it was time happening exactly as it was supposed to.

The future and the present flashed through his mind, intertwining until they were only a burst of fire and smoke. He couldn't see where this was going, couldn't tell what possible futures there were. All he could see was flames and searing emotion, in all times forthcoming.

And that terrified him more than it should have.

The second blast from the Klingons was enough to send several crew members to the ground. Smoke curled around them in choking clouds.

"Is everyone alright?" Kirk's hoarse shout broke through the sudden, terrible silence. "Spock? Sulu?"

Spock's unruffled reply came from somewhere to the Doctor's left. "I am uninjured, Captain."

"Fine, sir."

Coughing, The Doctor pulled himself to his feet. The once shiny control room was in shambles, covered in a layer of grey-black smoke. Occasionally, sparks flew from one machine or another. But the humans appeared uninjured.

_For now. _A voice whispered in the back of the Doctors' mind, but he ignored it.

"They're requesting communication, sir." This command came from a woman. Her hand was pressed to her ear and there was smoke stains on her uniform, but the Doctor instantly liked the steel pressure of her gaze. In an odd way, she was like Rose.

"Put it on visual, please, Uhura."

A creature the likes of which he had never seen before flickered into existence on the screen in front of him.

It was absurdly alien, with scarred features and an inhuman, haughty expression. It's forehead was lined with ridges, whilst hair tumbled down past its' shoulder in dirty tangles. Wary of the situations that could arise when one mixed humans and aliens, the Doctor tentatively stood up, moving to stand beside the Captain.

"This is Captain Kirk," Kirk said, stepping forward so he was in the screen's view. "We-"

"I know who you are," The voice was a guttural snarl.

"Well now, let's play nice," This was his area of expertise. The Doctor held out a hand to block Kirk as the Captain stepped forward.

"Doctor-"

"Captain."

"Captain," It was Spock, surprisingly, coming to his defense. "This man seems to know what he is doing. I think it is logical that we allow him to proceed. He has an air of knowledgeable confidence."

Kirk rolled his eyes and stepped aside, but the Doctor was already focused on his audience.

"So," he said, spreading his arms. "What are you attacking these people for? Have they violated the laws of your-"

The Klingon let out a roar so loud that the entire crew flinched. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Something _very_ bad, then.

"They killed our children. They murdered our families."

_Oh. _Something like anger burned in him at that...but if these were the last humans he was ever going to see, he wanted the whole story before making any sudden decisions.

"I'm sorry," he said, making the words as gentle as possible. "I understand."

The Klingon snorted, but before he could say anything the Doctor cut him off. "No. Listen to me, I _do _understand. I do. I'm a Timelord."

He received a blank look.

"Timelord?" Kirk muttered from behind him. "Is this some kind of joke, sir?"

_They didn't know? _

"Oh, of course, you don't know...well," He waved his hands in gestures he hoped would help prove his point, though of course they never did. "I am the last of my kind. Just me. They're all gone...they're all dead. There'_s no one else. _And my children are dead too," He said when he sensed an interruption coming. "And my grandchildren...everyone. They're all gone. So I do understand. And trust me when I say I know why you want to kill them. But these men and women have families too-"

The Klingon let loose another screech of anger, his face twisting into a furious contortion.

"Captain, they're firing at us!"

"Please!" The Doctor had to shout to be heard over the commotion of the panicking crew. "You need to listen to me."

"Down!" Kirk grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to the ground as the ship trembled with another blast.

'Tell me what is going on," He forced all the authority into his voice he could. "Now!"

* * *

Kirk gave him a hard look. "I have a situation right now, Doctor. We can't talk about this until my crew is safe." He released his grip on the arm of the time traveler, and threw himself into the central chair.

As the crew abandoned the attention that was being wasted, the Doctor turned and sprinted back to the TARDIS, leaving the humans to their own devices.

Back in the commanding chair, realization slowly spread across the half stunned brain of one Captain James Kirk. Realization of death, realization of disaster, and realization of one singular mistake. A mistake that shone out from the hundreds of others; a mistake that decidedly crushed all others in perspective.

Lifelong flippancy and laughing in the face of danger was finally coming back to haunt him. This was not the Kobayashi Maru experiment. There was no easy escape route, there was no ammunition that could sink these enemies.

Kirk spun his chair round and shouted for someone, anyone, to call Command, to get reinforcements, and to get his precious Enterprise out of harms' way.

Things cannot possibly get any worse. I'll thank God for that, at least, he thought to himself, pacing nervously around the perimeter of the bridge. However, irony decided to smack his ass one last time, as Sulu called from his place, "Sir! Communications are completely null and void! I'm not getting any reception at all!"

The tension of the ship increased tenfold at these words, and panic welled up in Kirk's head, threatening to drown him. Swear words were echoing from the general direction of the blue box. Ignoring these, Kirk looked around the frightened faces of his crew, his family, and he felt them blur. Suddenly, all he could think about were the screams of a hundred children, a hundred women, a hundred civilians. All he could see was fire, and the echoing sounds of laughter. Whose idea was it, anyhow? What force pushed him to give the order to shoot? And there, of all places? Rash stupidity. He had been warned about it since he was a small child; likely a gift from his father. Had he ever listened to the adults, the teachers, the policemen? No. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

He looked up, locking eyes with his best friend. Spock, calm and collected as always, was slowly making his way towards his chair. Perhaps to give advice, to support him until the end, as always. Kirk barely even registered a new shaking of his ships' floor.

Rocked off his feet, Spock never made it past the first console.


	3. Chapter 2

**Point of view changes will be indicated. **

Far behind the _USS Enterprise, _the Klingon ship flung volleys of firepower, bombs, and photon torpedoes into space. On the bridge, three officers argued in the deep guttural language privy to their race. A rank smell hovered over the occupants of the ship, though only a human would find it horrific. In fact, the source of the rank smell was Lt. Kahl, whose wife had given him cologne for his most recent birthday.

After a few minutes of angry gestures and more than a few threats, the two smaller Klingons stormed out of the control room, taking the smell and their anger with them. The larger alien, having bigger problems to deal with, turned back to his viewing station, watching his battle unfold.

Every time a hit was made on the enemy Federation ship, the leader allowed his leathery face to break into a satisfied smirk. Calling for more speed into his intercom, Agata laughed deep in his throat, already imagining the celebration of these following deaths. Previously he had considered sending a few delegates to this _Enterprise, _just to increase the amount of alcohol he would receive upon his return home, but found he lacked the time. All in all, he didn't really mind. As long as every single human scum on that _Hu'tegh_ ship was incinerated.

"The croaking raven,' Agata murmured, snickering at the destruction already inflicted, "doth bellow for revenge..."

* * *

Cursing, Kirk regained his composure, and returned to giving orders through the computer. Chekov, who had been knocked out of his chair, scrambled back to his position. Sulu typed furiously while still kneeling on the floor. Spock pushed himself up from the floor and half dragged himself back to the controls. Uhura straightened her skirt and flew back to her station, patting away at the smoke streaming from the ends of her hair. All crew members were in similar positions, but not a single man or woman stopped working.

"Captain! Warehouse Seven has been completely destroyed, the fires are spreading quickly!"

"Sir, Warp Core Module Extra is failing!"

"Captain Kirk, sir, we've managed to hit one of their main propellors, but they're still going strong!"

Voices reporting damage and progress assailed his ears from all sides, but one voice distracted him from his charges.

"Kirk! Yoo haloo, Kirk!" Loping on long legs, dodging the chaos in the bridge, came the Doctor. In one hand, he clutched a piece of paper, and in the other was a silver, glowing...stick? The odd man skidded into the console where the Captain worked, and immediately started volleying questions, his boyish face imbedded with concern.

"Sir, if you have any hope of getting out of here, you need to explain to me _right now _who these Klingons are and what they want. We may still have a chance of peaceful negotiations if you would just talk to me." Annoyance pulsed along with the massive headache Kirk had already acquired. God damn it all, why did he have to pick up this...this interloper _today?_

Furiously typing on his mainframe, Kirk began to speak without looking at his audience.

"Two months ago, I sailed the _Enterprise _through a neutral zone. Technically, nothing is supposed to happen within those borders besides friendly negotiations. There's a lot of commercial travel that goes on in the - Scotty, see if you can do anything about that cracked module, would you?! - zone, because it's safer there.

"We had forgotten to put our shields down, some sort of miscommunication. Anyway, one of the policing ships took this as a threat, and fired a warning shot."

More dust showered from the ceiling, indicating another strike on the _Starfleet _ship. The lights flickered uncertainly for a moment, and brought themselves back to life, though a bit dimmer than before.

"Well go on, then! Quickly," the Doctor insisted, drawing his eyebrows together.

Twisting in his seat, Kirk shouted orders to Chekov, simultaneously typing codes into his touchscreen. In his head, however, was the sudden onslaught of regret as he faced his mistakes yet again. Sighing inwardly, he turned back to his story.

"I...gave the order to attack without warning. Unfortunately, I mistook another ship, a civilian ship, as the enemy. I refused to listen to Mister Spock, who insisted that I wait. I was angry; we had just come out of a bad situation on another planet. We...annihilated the ship. Completely destroyed it."

Shock and realization registered on the Doctors face. His eyes bulged out, he stepped back, and began to talk, waving long arms about like a tree in a windstorm.

"So, this ship, this civilian ship, belonged to these...Klingons? And now they want revenge? This entire situation is your fault! God, humans are such silly creatures...As usual, I suppose it's up to me to get you idiots out of this situation." He shook his head, half laughing, and leaned back against the console.

Incensed, Kirk abandoned his authoritative air and turned to his counterpart. His face was reddened, his voice raised with every syllable. "How _dare _you accuse me of stupidity? I did what I had to! Do you think I enjoyed it? I was trying to keep my God damn ship safe! I thought we were bloody under attack! You weren't even here and you _dare _to come in here, like the bloody Sun God of the Az-"

"THAT'S IT!" the Time Lord suddenly exploded, leaping at least a foot into the air. "Move aside," he said, practically body slamming Kirk out of his chair, adding insult to injury. The Captain could only watch in shock as the stranger poked and prodded the mainframe, pointing his fancy glowing laser stick at it.

"What in God's name do-"

"SHUT UP, I'm thinking!"

Oh for goodness sakes, thought Kirk. Not even allowing me to finish a sentence. Who's captain here, anyhow?

Luckily, the ship had managed to find itself a bit of calm between firings, and the crew was regrouping themselves. Spock was bent over a screen, muttering about the position of the _Enterprise. _Suddenly, the Doctor spun towards him, and shouted over the din of the rest of the crew, "Oy! Pointy-eared fellow! D'ya think you could give me a bit of a hand, here?"

Spock turned, slowly, glowering. Kirk could practically feel him thinking, _Who does he think he is? Why didn't we lock him up, like I suggested? Illogical fools." _

_ "_Yes, sir, what is it that you wish to learn?" He asked, his expression never changing.

"Approximately how far are we from the Earth's Sun?" The Doctor wore an impish smile, and he was practically vibrating with energy. Unfortunately, this energy didn't quite reach anybody else in the room.

"If we were in Warp Drive," stated Spock, "it would take us four point two five minutes to reach it. However, I find that you are merely a burden in this time of crisis, and you are wasting precious moments." With this being said, the Vulcan turned back to his screen, just in time for another explosion to shock the crew back into chaotic action.

The Doctor, still grinning, turned to a thoroughly confused and very annoyed Kirk. "If we were to fly the ship around the sun far enough, they would pursue us. the gravity of the sun's field would pull them towards it, adding mass to the sun and ending their lives." Kirk considered it, realized that they may just have a chance at survival. Pushing the man out of the way, the Captain commandeered his original place of command, and began shouting orders into the intercom.

"Mr. Scott, if you could use every last bit of warp speed we have, and plot a course directly for the Sun. We're going to burn these fools up like firewood."

Unfortunately, James Kirk, in listening to the fool ideas of the stranger on his ship, had made one last fatal mistake. Not considering the consequences of forcing a foreign object into a small star, he had made his orders, made his choice. They lured their enemies on a direct path for the Sun, as ordered, and dodged out of the way at the last moment.

The Klingons, distracted, and lacking the modernized steering equipment that the _Enterprise _was graced with, sailed right on into the great flaming ball of gas.

Which would have been all fine and well, but for the singular thing that slipped the great Captains mind. These Klingons, despite mediocre steering, had a very advanced ship. It was powered by atomic fusion, and if it were to explode, it would be enough to destroy an entire planet larger than Earth. When the ship made impact with the Sun, however, it merely forced the star to expand.

In essence, they had caused a great wall of fiery destruction. A walking apocalypse. And it was moving far faster than any Warp Drive could easily outrun.

* * *

It all made such horrible, terrifying sense.

He had gone back in time to investigate the death of the solar system. Why it had to happen. He had been so sure that since the point wasn't fixed in time that he could fix this, save those puny little humans one last time.

But in the end, he had been the one who had caused their tiny little blue world to vanish in an explosion of ash and fire. It had been him.

Paradox. Why hadn't he seen it?

The ship around him was shaking from the force of the fires and explosions. Kneeling on the convulsing floor he threw back his head and let out his frustration in a scream. Why, why was it always him? Him, who tried so hard to save people and then ultimately failed and caused suffering?

He needed to leave. If he didn't, he would try to save them and he would only end up causing their deaths in a new way. He was trapped in a predestination paradox, a time loop.

Pushing himself up into a standing position, he half ran, half fell down the halls of the ship, towards his TARDIS. He tried not to think about what he was doing, about the screams he could already here in the not so distant future echoing throughout his mind. He couldn't-

"Doctor!" A hand clamped down on his shoulder with sharp force, squeezing with hard pressure.

He stumbled, but did not go to his knees.

"What are you doing?" The cold, deep voice was familiar.

Spock.

"I'm leaving." The words ached like poison in his mouth, making his tongue heavy, voice soft with weary resignation.

There was a pause. The distant sound of explosions echoed from the bridge.

Finally Spock whispered, "Why?"

Blowing out his breath in a sharp sigh, The Doctor spun around in the other alien's grasp. Spock was a couple inches taller than him, so he was forced to tilt his chin up to meet the man's eyes. "Look, this is a paradox."

One eyebrow rose.

"If I stay, I would die. And since I caused this paradox, if I die here I would never have been able to cause it in the first place. Which means that if I wasn't able to cause it, that it couldn't have ever happened. But it is going to happen in some form no matter what I do because my future self watches this happen and makes the choice to come back and investigate. When he makes that choice, he will come back in time and cause the event all over again. There is nothing I can do here. I need to leave."

Again, Spock only looked at him. For a long while they simply stared at each other until the shaking of the ship sent them to their knees.

"You are afraid of death," Spock said, softly.

The Doctor laughed, a bitter, hoarse laugh, without humor. "Isn't everyone?"

Spock tilted his head to the side in a gesture that the Doctor assumed was acknowledgment. "How very human of you."

For some reason, the comment stung. "Is it a bad thing, to fear the end?"

"No. Simply illogical." Spock shifted his position so one hand was gripping the railing on the wall above their heads, and the other on Kirk's shoulder. "As I told my friend Kirk once, sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"What are you saying?" The words were sharper than he intended.

"I am saying," Spock said with almost exaggerated patience. "That I think you should consider your options."

"There are no options!"

"My race is old. I am not certain the age of yours, Doctor. But I see myself when you look at these humans. You look at them as if they are children, young and innocent, just taking their first steps." his voice remained cool and impassive the entire time. "And they are. But they could do so much more. They are very important to the life of this universe. If you can save them-"

"I am a Timelord, Spock," The Doctor whispered. "I see the whole of time and space. What was, what is, what could be. A whole endless stream of possible futures. Time can be rewritten, but there are fixed points. Points where events have to happen. This is a paradox, a time loop, I cannot change this."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "And I am a Vulcan, Doctor," he whispered, and reached up to press the fingertips of his free hand to Kirk's cheek.

A rush of images poured into his mind. Laughter. A child's eyes. The deep blue of the Earth's ocean, the gentle tint of the sun that was no destroying them, the love of a mother for her child-

Spock was showing him reasons why he should stay.

He would not let it work.

Lifting his free hand to Spock's temple, he pressed two finger's to the Vulcan's head and poured in his own memories.

Rose's laugh, Gallifrey burning, the solar system dying, the doctor sobbing in the emptiness of his TARDIS. He poured the emotion of his decision, the helpless and the fear and the resignation that this little green world needed to end.

Spock pulled away from him with a gasp, dropping his hand. Their connection broke.

They stared at each with new understanding, new horror and grief. Sensing that this strangely emotional man needed reassurance, The Doctor forced a smile. "Time can be rewritten you know, Spock. In an alternate reality, you survive." Under his breath he added, "in my DVD player."

"What?"

"Nothing," he couldn't resist that small bit of humor.

Spock was standing now, gripping the railing for support as the ship shook again.

"Spock!" The voice was Kirk's, hoarse and desperate. "Spock!"

"Go, Doctor," The Vulcan raised his hand, fingers spread. "And live long and prosper."

Nodding, The Doctor raised his hand, imitating the position. He lingered for a moment, unsure.

"Go." Spock made the command an order, before he turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway.

The Doctor cast one long look at the burning ship, the screaming crew, before he turned his back.

Coward.

He was just too good at running away.

* * *

A wave of gaseous material and fire rocked the ship, throwing Kirk to the ground. The glass of the windows was cracked, prepared to shatter. Heat was rushing in from all sides; the flames licked and struck at their new prey. The lights flickered and went out. The computer spelled the critical state of _Enterprise _over and over again, before finally throwing out a wave of sparks and dying completely.

As the environment shook and spun beneath him, the world itself slowed down for Kirk. He heard screams, off in the distance, and the panicked faces swam in and out of his vision.

More firepower slammed into the ship. Bits of the ceiling rained down in the control room, knocking aside those who, due to some fabulous miracle, remained standing.

No longer able to support himself, Kirk let his grizzled cheek press against the filthy floor, dry sobs forcing their way up in his throat. So much for going down fighting; so much for facing death with bravery. All the pain and the loss that he had ever felt in his life was washing over him, in endless waves. Visions of his home, his Earth, spun in his head, and all the people he had ever known were screaming one thing, "Your fault, your fault, your fault..." Spock? Where was Spock? He was just here, a few min-Before another breath could be taken, the glass of the windows exploded in a hailstorm of shards, a fireball rocketing into the room. Slamming, spitting, tearing, burning, breaking.

There was no hope for breathing. No hope for survival. No hope at all. If any smell was left in the air, it would be the stench of burning bodies, of melting metal.

Kirk was picked up and tossed into death faster than he had been shoved into life, with the barely a few naked words barely passing from his already dead lips, whispering the last of his life into space.

_I'm sorry, Dad...I..._

_I'm sorry._


	4. Epilogue

He was barely able to punch the coordinates into the TARDIS before the ship exploded.

She shuddered and spat more sparks.

"Come on, old girl," The words were a moaning keen. He pressed his forehead to her console. "I know it's hard, but we need to-"

With a whistling sound that seemed almost like a howl to his ears, she plunged into the vortex. He lurched to the left and didn't try to hold on to anything. Letting himself be carried through the air until he slammed into the opposite wall.

The TARDIS hummed.

"I'm alright," He growled, and then curled in on himself as the bitter words echoed in his ears with a new meaning. "I'm _always _alright."

He was, wasn't he? Always. Always fine because he ran away. He had run when he was eight from whole of space and time, he had run from responsibility, he had run and run and run. He was a coward, nothing more.

Spock had been brave, in his strange logical yet sentimental way. The images of earth and of children had been tinged with emotion. Tender and sad, almost human emotion.

They'd all been so brave.

Pulling himself up from his curled position, he flipped a few switches on the TARDIS to steady her. They were far from the point they wanted to be in the future, so he slowed their descent slightly, to enjoy the wild power of the vortex before the time loop came to a close.

He thought of Kirk's story, of his demons from the past coming back to haunt him. Death.

How long would it be before his own sins came back to bring him down into darkness? Resting his head against the trembling TARDIS doors, he wept for the lost humans, earth, and the heroes of the Enterprise who had died to cruelly and too soon.

"You know, the universe really isn't fair," he whispered to himself,to the TARDIS. She couldn't answer him, of course, but he sensed a shiver of energy from her. Comfort?

"Thanks, old girl," He said, rapping his knuckles against the door. "Now!" he forced all the enthusiasm he could muster into his voice. "Where do we need to go this time?"

He laughed at the absurdity of that. Where they _needed _to be was with the humans. Where they needed to go was back so they could all be saved.

But he couldn't do that.

The TARDIS apparently had other ideas, because she changed their course, vaulting wildly to the right.

He slid sideways, letting the rapid movement guide him to the floor. Drawing his knees up into his chest, he remained there, clenching his eyes shut and letting time drift through his thoughts. Past and future and the horrible, burning present. It hurt, the intensity of it, pounding through his mind, pulsing behind his eyes. He embraced the pain, and let the saltwater cleanse his burning eyes and wet his cheeks until they landed.

_Next stop everywhere. _

The thought had never been so bitter.


End file.
